


A Perfect Dish

by StarsEncrusted



Series: Nightmare after-stories [5]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsEncrusted/pseuds/StarsEncrusted
Summary: Nightmare after-story number 5. Inspired by the chat "Diavolo's Natural Enemy."
Series: Nightmare after-stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997908
Comments: 15
Kudos: 30





	1. A Sleepless Night

I am lying on my bed late at night, browsing pictures of Lucifer.

Tonight, another one of my magical experiments ended in failure. This isn't because of my power going out of control, or anything like that. The experimental composite spell just doesn't work. It's too volatile and unstable.

I am trying to combine three different studies to create a new spell. But perhaps those studies have no common points. They repel each other because they're too different.

Or perhaps I am lacking in skill.

I used up a lot of power stones in the attempt, and it feels like every muscle in my body hurts.

Some magicians believe this soreness from overdoing the magic is nothing but an illusion. The mind convincing the body that it's under strain. But that doesn't make it any less unpleasant.

And I have nothing to show for it, either.

This is really discouraging.

It's hardly the first failure I've experienced. Despite that, I've never doubted that I would succeed eventually. Even if my goal is truly impossible, I will definitely achieve it.

But sometimes, I can't help but wonder...How long would it take?

I should really get some rest, but I just can't relax. My body is too tense. Even the anti-insomnia charms don't help. And my usual methods of relaxation aren't working...

_ding-ding._

That's Belphie. Since I'm awake anyway, might as well see what he wants.

Belphegor looks at me out of the mirror app.

Belphegor: I finished the task you've assigned to me.

He doesn't look too happy about that.

MC: ...You have a recent picture of Diavolo?

MC: And he's **smiling** in it?

My tone is tinged with disbelief. I suppose I didn't really expect Belphie to take that task seriously.

Belphegor: See for yourself.

An image comes into focus.

It's Diavolo, but unlike I've ever seen him before. He's looking down at his D.D.D., apparently watching something. There is a wicked glint in his eyes, and his lips are curved up in private amusement.

This... counts as a smile. An **evil smile**.

I've never seen such a smile on Diavolo's face before. I didn't even know he could smile like that.

Excellent, this is a new expression of his! I want to see **all of them**.

MC: Good job, Belphie, you did it!

Belphegor: ...Yeah, yeah.

Belphie didn't look enthusiastic to begin with, but somehow, my praise seems to dampen his spirits even further.

MC: But what did you do to make him smile like **that**?

Belphegor: ...I don't want to tell.

MC: Tell me. **That's an order**.

Belphegor: Ugh.

Belphegor: You know how that spying ghost of mine is always recording everything in its vicinity?

MC: Yeah, you told me.

Belphegor: It was there when you got upset over that matter with Lord Diavolo's stuffed toy —

Ah, yes. He's referring to that episode when I lost it and nearly strangled Belphie to death.

Belphegor: — and it recorded the entire thing.

MC: ...

Belphegor: So, I showed that recording to Lord Diavolo.

Belphegor: And this is his reaction to it.

MC: ...

I didn't know that Diavolo enjoyed that sort of thing. He just doesn't seem like the type to torture someone, you know what I mean?

But maybe he **enjoys watching**?

If that cheers him up, then...

I give Belphie a brief, contemplative glance.

Belphegor: !

Belphegor: Why did you look at me like that just now?

MC: No reason. It was just a look.

Belphegor: I can sense your malicious intent. Stop considering whatever you're considering.

Belphegor: It's unethical to torture a prisoner for someone else's entertainment!

MC: **Tch**. Fine.

Belphie's sense of danger is excellent as usual.

MC: By the way, what happened to your stuffed bunny?

Belphegor: Lord Diavolo returned it to me.

Belphegor: He said that he's grown bored of holding it captive.

Oh? Then, Diavolo is the type to get bored of his toys quickly?

Belphegor: Anyway, I just called you to report my success.

Belphegor: Can this task be considered done now?

MC: Yes. You have exceeded my expectations.

The mirror blurs immediately. Belphie hangs up without even bothering to say good-bye. He sure is in a hurry to end this conversation.

Belphegor's voice fades away, but Diavolo's image remains, as though burnt into the reflective surface.

I stare at it.

On all the pictures of him that I have, Diavolo always looks composed and assured. Unlike my face looking at me in the mirror.

But Diavolo's goal of achieving harmony between the three realms is also quite ambitious.

Does he ever feel discouraged? Does he ever wonder if his task is truly impossible?

After a moment of hesitation, I raise my hand and wipe Diavolo's image from the surface of the mirror, leaving only my own troubled reflection staring back at me.

MC: Oh well, time for **extreme measures**.

I play a video of Lucifer.

It's a video of him in his true form, reprimanding someone, secretly taken by Asmo.

A video is definitely better than a picture. My anxious thoughts instantly become hazy, and I can't quite recall what's been bothering me.

I feel like gushing about this video to someone.

I send a message to Luke. He's probably asleep anyway.

[MC: Lucifer really is beautiful, especially when he's angry.]

[MC: The way his wings move is amazing. I could gaze at him for hours.]

[MC: Even though a video can't compare to the real thing, it's still not bad.]

_ding._

[Luke: Tch, demons.]

...Luke said "tch." Has the Devildom been affecting him?

[MC: Did my message wake you up?]

[Luke: No, I've just finished classes.]

[Luke: Have you forgotten about the time difference between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm again?]

Ahaha... I've really forgotten.

I have sent Luke a bashful sticker.

Luke has sent me a facepalming sticker.

But this is convenient. There's still one measure I haven't tried. Maybe Luke could help me out.

[MC: I can't fall asleep. Sing me a lullaby.]

Luke has sent me a frustrated sticker.

[Luke: I can't.]

[Luke: All phone calls between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm must be approved at least 24 hours in advance.]

[Luke: Even if I apply for a phone call right now, I can only get approved the next day.]

[MC: Really? I had no idea.]

But come to think of it, I've never had a phone call with anyone in the Celestial Realm before. It was always text messaging.

[Luke: Let me see if I can send you a voice message instead.]

[This file contains a voice message.]

[This file has been erased.]

[Warning. Voice messaging is forbidden between your locations.]

MC: !

[MC: Luke, don't try sending it anymore.]

There's no telling what would happen.

[MC: I wonder why such a rule exists?]

[Luke: It's because some angels and demons have a powerful voice.]

[Luke: They can compel you to do something by speaking to you, even against your will.]

[Luke: As long as you can hear their voice, even if you don't understand the words, you can't resist the command.]

[MC: Makes sense.]

I better end this conversation before he tries bypassing the rule again. Luke has always been a law-abiding angel. I don't want him to get in trouble because of me.

[MC: I'm going to get some sleep now.]

[MC: Talk to you tomorrow.]

I close my eyes, and struggle to relax. But the more tired I feel, the harder it is to fall asleep.

_ding._

Oh? It's a message from Decimus.

He should be working on the city's core right now. I wonder if something happened?

[Decimus: The little angel is making a big fuss. He's messaged me, demanding a voice conversation with you.]

[Decimus: I can't adjust the 24 hour rule on my own. The Celestial officials need to agree, too. And they never act quickly.]

[Decimus: But I have approved of your phone call with Diavolo.]

Huh?

Why with **Diavolo**? And why do my phone calls with Diavolo need to be **approved**?

_riiiing. riiiing. riiiiiiing._

I stare at my D.D.D.

It's a call from Diavolo.

All right... let's see what's up.

I answer the call.


	2. The Inconveniences of a Refined Palate

[Diavolo: I've just received an urgent petition from the Celestial Realm to change the 24 hour rule into a 24 minutes rule.]

[Diavolo: Apparently, some angel is very distressed about being unable to sing a lullaby for a certain someone on this side.]

[Diavolo: From what I understand, Michael has also received a similar petition from the same angel. He is very flabbergasted about this matter, and he wants to know whether I have incited it.]

[MC: S-sorry for all the trouble. Don't mind the petition, Luke got carried away a little. I will explain this to Michael.]

I had no idea that Luke would take my little request so seriously. He went as far as to send an urgent petition to Diavolo about it. He even sent one to Michael...

And why is he so **fast** about it?

[MC: We didn't wake you up, did we?]

[Diavolo: No, I wasn't asleep yet. But...]

[Diavolo: Why would you ask **Luke** to sing?]

[Diavolo: Anything Luke can do, Decimus can do it better. Surely it's more convenient to ask Decimus instead?]

...You're just biased because Decimus is your older brother. Besides, how could I randomly ask Decimus to sing a lullaby for me?

[Diavolo: I thought, since you live in the same house, Decimus would at least keep you company when you can't sleep.]

[MC: ...He's way too busy for that.]

Saying that we live in the same house, it's a bit of a stretch. This house is huge. Decimus avoids my bedroom altogether if he can help it. And I don't even know where his bedroom is.

[Diavolo: Is that so?]

[MC: Yeah. Decimus says that creating the city core is the most crucial part.]

The way he explained it, once the foundation is built, the rest of the city construction will go quickly.

[MC: During the last day and night, Decimus has barely stepped away from the Source's forge.]

[MC: I don't want to disturb his work.]

[Diavolo: What about Mammon?]

[MC: He's staying over at the House of Lamentation tonight. He probably misses his brothers.]

Or, what's more likely, he went to beg Lucifer to take that collar off him.

In any case, I don't think I'd be able to sleep if Mammon sang for me. I feel like I'd become even less sleepy.

[MC: I sent Nine to watch over him. I don't feel good about having Mammon travel across the Abyss on his own.]

[Diavolo: Then you're alone in the house tonight?]

H-hey, what's with that concern in your voice? Don't make it sound like I'm about to fall apart from a lack of company!

[Diavolo: Have you had something to eat?]

MC: !

Why are we suddenly talking about that?

...But since this topic was brought up, I might as well explain the situation to him. In fact, I could use Diavolo's help with something.

[MC: As a matter of fact, I haven't.]

[MC: You see, the thing is...]

[MC: For a while now, I've had this problem where I've been unable to taste food.]

[MC: And today, Solomon suddenly decided to solve that problem once and for all. Using magical means.]

[MC: He cast a powerful spell on me, and it worked **too well**.]

[MC: My sense of taste has returned. But the problem is, I've gained an **incredibly enhanced** sense of taste.]

[MC: I can taste every single little thing, and it's really distracting.]

[MC: All the dishes taste subpar to me now. They're either underseasoned, or overseasoned, or undercooked, or overcooked, or the flavors are just not in harmony. Even fresh fruits are disappointing. I don't like the taste of **anything**.]

[MC: So I don't really have any appetite.]

[MC: The poor auto-chef is very distressed. Even a construct can't cook a dish perfectly enough that I would enjoy it.]

[MC: But the worst part is, now I can't eat my Master's cooking at all!]

[MC: I can't even endure the **smell** of it.]

[Diavolo: ...How did Solomon react to that?]

[MC: He thought it was a reason to celebrate, and he baked me a celebratory pie that I couldn't even be in the same **room** with...!]

[Diavolo: So you've been exposed to Solomon's cooking tonight.]

[Diavolo: It's no wonder that you're too unsettled to sleep.]

That might be a part of the reason. A small part.

[Diavolo: What happened to the pie?]

[MC: Nine bravely ate it.]

Fortunately, the digestion of mid-rankers is very good. They can even eat rocks.

[MC: As for me, I had to drink a glass of Arden to settle my stomach. Arden is the only thing that tastes okay to me now.]

[MC: Solomon said that having a refined palate is not a bad thing. This outcome has put him into a great mood.]

[MC: Fortunately, he's also mentioned that the enhanced taste effect should fade away on its own after a couple of days, and then my sense of taste would stabilize in the average range and return to normal.]

The fact that Solomon found a way to permanently cure the metaphysical damage done to my Gluttony Sin is nothing short of awe-inspiring. The temporary side effect of the enhanced taste isn't worthy of mention, in comparison.

It's just that...

[Diavolo: Did Decimus take any measures to supplement your nutrition in the meanwhile?]

[MC: Yes, and his **measures** are the biggest problem!]

[MC: I've been consuming nothing but Arden for the last day, and that was the last bottle of Arden that Decimus had.]

Arden (A.B.), aka drink brewed from angel's blood.

[MC: And sinisterly enough, Decimus has suddenly contacted Michael and told him that he'd like to have an **angel** come visit the Aspire domain tomorrow on some urgent official business...]

[Diavolo: ...]

[MC: Nobody wants to go, because they suspect that they'd get eaten. I've heard that Michael is considering sending Simeon here again.]

[MC: But I'm afraid that if Simeon does come here, he's going to end up drained of his blood, in order to brew more Arden.]

In fact, I'm pretty sure this is Decimus' intention in bringing an angel here.

[MC: Considering this, I have a favor to ask of you...]

[Diavolo: How unexpected. Usually, I'm the one asking you for favors —]

Diavolo pauses suddenly. He must be remembering that one and only time when I asked him for a favor, and when he refused.

[MC: ...It's not about me staying in the Devildom, this time. It's the opposite.]

[MC: Could you come up with some excuse why angels can't come visit here for a few days, until this whole enhanced taste situation resolves itself?]

I **really** don't want Decimus to forcibly extract Simeon's blood for me to drink. I'd rather just fast for a couple of days.

[MC: I only need a little delay. If you say that angels can't visit temporarily, Decimus won't oppose your decision.]

[Diavolo: ...]

[Diavolo: Very well, I understand the situation.]

[Diavolo: Tomorrow, I will send Barbatos over to Aspire. Let's see if he can cook a perfect dish that you'd be able to eat.]

MC: !

Wait a second, how did this conclude with Barbatos coming here?

[Diavolo: If anyone can do it, he can. Barbatos has a lot of experience in dealing with a picky eater.]

[Diavolo: Until then...]

Diavolo's voice changes.

It's a change I've never heard before. I can't quite identify the nature of it. Perhaps he changes the intonation. Or perhaps he changes the language he speaks.

A sudden feeling of danger sends chills down my spine. But I have no time to react at all, because Diavolo speaks, and what he says is a command.

[Diavolo: **Sleep tight**.]

MC: !

My D.D.D. slips out of my hand. My consciousness fades into darkness.

Perhaps I can't resist the force of his order. Or perhaps I don't want to resist.

In an instant, I am plunged into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	3. A Delicate Demon

I wake up late in the morning, with a fuzzy, well-rested feeling of someone who's definitely overslept.

I get out of bed in a hurry. I wonder if Barbatos has arrived already?

Ugh, the mirror over the sink in the bathroom still has a hole in it. I need to fix it sometime.

By the time I get to the kitchen, the moon outside is already bright. As I approach, I can hear muffled voices.

Sure enough, it's Barbatos. And... Decimus, too.

What are they talking about?

MC: ...

I creep to the kitchen's door and listen in.

Barbatos: How fresh are these vegetables?

Decimus: They were purchased yesterday on the market and placed into the preservation chamber.

Barbatos: They're stale. It's no wonder they're inedible.

"Inedible" is a bit... If not for my enhanced taste, I would've gobbled them up already. What could happen to vegetables in a single day?

Barbatos: Greens should be **this** fresh.

There is a pause. What's going on?

I carefully peek into the kitchen. Decimus is wearing his true form. Apparently, he has no intention of concealing his face from Barbatos.

Barbatos is holding up two fingers.

Decimus: Two days old?

Silence.

Decimus: Two hours?

No response.

Decimus: ...Two **minutes**?

Barbatos: Correct.

What a harsh requirement. Cooking right after harvesting, that can only be done if you have your own private garden.

Barbatos: Greens are at their best when they're **freshly harvested**. Otherwise, they will wilt.

Barbatos: Root vegetables will keep longer, but the taste will deteriorate over time.

Barbatos: A day old ingredients cannot be used in a perfect dish.

Barbatos: As for fruits and berries, two seconds after harvest is a good benchmark for the proper freshness.

Just say that they should be eaten immediately after picking.

That... doesn't sound like such a bad idea, actually. Yum.

Decimus: ...I'll go to the forest and harvest some wild vegetables.

Don't tell me he intends to go to the primordial forest? I mean, I know it's right outside, bordering with Aspire, but still.

Barbatos: There's no need. I brought some with me.

Barbatos opens his bag. Sure enough, he brought some veggies! But what about his two minutes requirement?

I wonder if he froze them in time, to preserve the maximum freshness during the transportation?

Speaking of time freeze...

I take out my alarm watch and consult it. As expected, the hands are still permanently frozen in that previous position — one second to twelve. I'll have to ask Barbatos to do something about that.

Barbatos: In the long term, consider planting a garden here, and growing your own vegetables.

Barbatos: This way, not only can you always get fresh ingredients whenever you need them, but you can also be self-sufficient, without having to rely on the market.

Decimus: This place is a graveyard. The soil here can only be used for growing flowers.

Barbatos: If I understand correctly, the consecration has already been done, the cores and bones have all been extracted, and the soil has been purified.

Barbatos: I do recall that you used to have a central park in the city blueprints.

Decimus: ...

Barbatos is well-informed.

Barbatos: There is nothing stopping you from building a greenhouse, too.

Barbatos: Growing vegetables is not complicated. Anyone can do it. You just need to follow a few simple guidelines.

Barbatos: I took it upon myself to prepare some notes you could consult.

Barbatos takes out a thick scroll, and unrolls it.

The scroll is unrolling. And it keeps unrolling. Now it's trailing on the ground.

MC: ...

Decimus: ...

Several seconds pass before the scroll is unrolled fully. It's completely covered with Barbatos' dense handwriting.

Barbatos: As long as you study these notes, you shouldn't have any trouble growing acceptable vegetables.

Barbatos gives the scroll to Decimus, who takes it wordlessly.

Barbatos: I'm going to cook breakfast now.

Barbatos: Why don't you take this opportunity to study my notes so that you could put them to use in the near future?

That sounds more like an order than a request.

Oddly enough, Decimus offers no objections.

The way they talk to each other, it sounds like they've known each other for a long time.

Decimus opens his hand. The auto-chef condenses itself into a ball, and floats into Decimus' palm.

Holding the long scroll in one hand, and the auto-chef in the other, Decimus teleports out of the kitchen.

I wonder if he's planning to upgrade the auto-chef with a gardening function?

Meanwhile, Barbatos prepares to chop the vegetables.

He rolls up his sleeves.

That's unusual. I've never seen him do that while cooking before. I can't help but stare.

He is cooking some sort of wraps. A delicious smell is already emanating from them.

MC: (gulp)

I'll just snatch one while he's not looking. They look almost done anyway.

I creep up closer and snake out my hand.

Before I can take the wrap, Barbatos catches my hand by the sleeve.

MC: !

Barbatos: They're not ready yet.

I scowl at Barbatos, and withdraw my hand.

MC: You sure are brave, coming here after your previous unauthorized incursion.

I haven't forgotten how he stole my scroll on Solomon's orders. Yes, I am the type to hold grudges forever.

Barbatos presses his hand to his chest briefly.

MC: ...What's wrong?

Barbatos: Nothing... Just minor muscle soreness.

Don't tell me he's still not healed after the Adversary put a hole through his chest. I **told** him to see Solomon about it!

I pour a glass of water, and add a drop of Golden Flame to it.

It's one of my stronger emergency rejuvenators. Not nearly on the level of the Panacea, and slow-working, but still quite effective.

MC: Drink this.

Barbatos: This is a bit excessive. I don't believe it's necessary to —

MC: **Drink this.**

Barbatos takes a sip.

I watch him, scowling.

Just look at him. He's not built for battle at all. Why'd he go into Point Two and get into a fight on his own? It's better for him to act outside, from a distance, just like he's always been doing.

I add two more drops of Golden Flame to his glass.

MC: In the future, don't do any of the strenuous stuff.

MC: It's better to leave it to people who are used to getting up close and personal.

People like me.

MC: With your fragile constitution, it's better to avoid getting physical. A delicate demon like you shouldn't —

???: Bwahaha!

MC: !

Mammon is standing at the door to the kitchen.

How long has he been listening for...?

Mammon: The day has come when Barbatos got called a **delicate demon**!

Mammon: BWAHAHAHA!

Barbatos finishes his glass, places it on the counter, and looks at me with an indescribable expression on his face.

Barbatos: ...I think you misunderstand something about me.

Mammon: Ya don't say! Wait till Lucifer hears about this!

Barbatos turns his gaze upon Mammon.

Barbatos: Mammon, you look like you have a lot of **free time** on your hands.

Mammon stops laughing abruptly.

Barbatos: In such a case, I'll be happy to give you some **extra tasks**.

Mammon: Wait, I'm already swamped with work from Decimus —!

Barbatos: It doesn't seem this way to me.

Barbatos: How fortunate that I came along, or else you would've gotten **bored** with nothing to do.

Mammon: I'm not bored, not at all! I was just on my way to the Pool of Fortune right now. Those cores won't reincarnate themselves, ya know? Gotta go!

With a stir in the air, Mammon is gone.

I examine the stove. Something has changed about it...

Sure enough, Mammon stole one of the wraps!

Barbatos lets out a sigh.

Barbatos: Mammon has atrocious manners, as always.

MC: **My** wraps!

Barbatos: They're ready now. Have a taste.

Before I can turn to chase Mammon, Barbatos deftly passes me a full plate.

I take a wrap.

MC: (munch, munch)

Barbatos: ...How is it?

MC: Hard to tell after having just one. Let me have another one to make sure.

Barbatos: ...

I take another wrap.

MC: (munch, munch)

Barbatos: Surely, two wraps are enough to judge the taste?

MC: It's still difficult to tell. They're kinda small.

I take two wraps at once.

MC: (munch, munch, munch)

Barbatos: ...

MC: They're edible. I guess.

MC: Just barely.

I take two more wraps.

MC: Regardless of the taste, it'll be a waste to leave any.

MC: (munch, munch, munch)

Nine: Uwou...

MC: Oh, Nine, welcome back!

Nine: Urma, arrooowou!

Nine sits at my feet, his nose pointed at the plate, with a miserable air of someone who's starved for centuries.

MC: They didn't feed you in the House of Lamentation?

MC: Here, have a wrap.

Nine swallows it in one gulp.

Decimus: A proper demon doesn't need to lower himself to beg for food.

Decimus has appeared out of the thin air next to me. He picks up a wrap from my plate and eats it. Then he teleports away again.

MC: (nod)

MC: See, Nine, this is how a proper demon should behave.

MC: Instead of begging for food, he takes it without asking.

MC: When you become a powerful demon, you'll also be able to act like that.

Nine: Orrumu, grarroarrr!

Barbatos: ...What are you teaching him?

MC: I'm just trying to motivate Nine to improve himself!

I reach for another wrap, but my fingers meet only the empty plate.

MC: Hey, there's no more!


End file.
